“But no other fanny pack would look this good doing it,” Ransom grins, leaning down to kiss the grimace on Chowder’s face.
“Remind me why I put up with this,” Chowder sighs, but he takes Ransom’s hand and squeezes it, so Ransom knows he’s joking.
“Because I take you to cool amusement parks and hold your hand on the scary rides, of course,” Ransom chirps back.
“Excuse me?” Chowder laughs, “I recall someone nearly breaking my fingers on the Jurassic Park ride because the dinosaurs were too scary.”
“Hmmm,” Ransom hums, “Not me, must’ve been your other boyfriend.”
“Right, right, of course,” Chowder nods, “My other boyfriend, who doesn’t pair salmon shorts with a blue tank-top and pineapple fanny pack, because he values my sanity.”
“Sounds like a really boring guy,” Ransom comments, tugging on Chowder’s hand to lead him towards the Hulk ride. “C’mon, this one looks sick.”
“I dunno, babe, that one looks scary,” Chowder says, sticking his lip out in a faux-pout, “Are you going to hold my hand?”
Ransom laughs, bright and loud and unashamed, as he squeezes Chowder’s hand and says, “Always, C.”
Oh my god, please tell me more about Chowder/Ransom????
“Okay, let’s just go through the flashcards one more time and then - ”
“Justin,” Chowder huffs, “I have told you one million times, you don’t need flashcards of my family.”
“But I always forget if it’s your mom or your grandma that’s in the knitting club!” Ransom whines.
“It’s both, and neither of them care if you remember. You don’t have to memorize things about my family to get them to like you, babe,” Chowder says gently, turning into his neighborhood. He feels the same lightness in his chest that he always gets when he’s almost home, and it’s even better having Rans here, too.
“I just want to make a good impression,” Ransom says, reaching over to grab Chowder’s hand. Chowder intertwines their fingers and gives Ransom’s hand a quick squeeze just as he turns onto his street.
“Oh fuck,” he says under his breath when he sees the cars. He hopes Ransom didn’t hear him, but apparently he’s not that lucky.
“What? What?” Ransom asks, clearly seconds away from panic.
“It’s nothing - it’s fine!” Chowder rushes to reassure him. “It’s just - um - my extended family is here.”
“I DON’T HAVE FLASHCARDS ON EXTENDED FAMILY, CHRISTOPHER!”
Chowder has spent the last thirty minutes telling all of his aunts that he is nineteen and not anywhere near ready to get married or have kids, but he thinks now he might need to remind himself of that. Ransom is currently functioning as a human jungle-gym for three of his younger cousins, and he looks like he’s actually loving it. Chowder hears his laugh ring through the backyard every few minutes, and every time he looks over to catch Ransom’s eye, he’s smiling right back.
“He’s going to be a doctor, you know,” his mom gushed to everyone when Chowder introduced Ransom.
“He’s captain of the hockey team and he has a 4.0 GPA,” his dad bragged.
“He’s a nice boy who treats Christopher very well,” his grandma added.
Ransom had ducked his head at all the compliments, but Chowder caught the pleased smile on his face.
Chowder gets wrapped up in conversation with his uncle and loses track of Ransom, but soon enough Ransom finds him, walking over with Chowder’s cousin’s baby in his arms.
“Babe! Look!” Ransom whisper-shouts. “She was crying and no one could get her to sleep, until I took her,” he beams.
“Future pediatrician for the win,” Chowder laughs. He grabs his phone to snap a picture of Ransom and the baby and post it to his Snapchat story with that exact caption.
“So do you think I did alright? Does the fam approve?” Ransom asks.
“Rans, the family wants to throw us a wedding right now,” Chowder grins.
“Yeah? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” Rans questions, eyebrows raised.
“Yes, Justin, my family all secretly hates you and wants to break us up. Them showering you with affection and letting you hold Minnie is just a tactic to distract you,” Chowder rolls his eyes.
“Don’t even joke about that!” Rans exclaims, but there’s still a wide smile plastered on his face.
“You’re an idiot,” Chowder laughs, leaning over to kiss Ransom’s cheek and then Minnie’s forehead. “Okay, now you need to give Minnie back to her parents because I am having serious baby feels and I am nineteen, goddamnit.”
holster knowing abt ransoms crush on chowder and them talking abt it and just nudging rans whenever chowder does something Cute or Sexy (or both bc lets be honest that boy,,) thats aimed at rans and rans commenting on his Goalie thin g (where hes super intense during the game and shit) like just the boys flirting bc that is my Shit
“Dude,” Holster says sympathetically.
“I know,” Ransom sighs.
“You told him his helmet hair looked nice,” Holster winces.
“I know,” Ransom repeats, not even trying to hide his grimace.
“I haven’t seen you be this off your game in... ever.” He puts an arm around Ransom’s shoulders, steering him back towards their corner of the locker room and away from the goalie stalls where Chowder is happily chatting with Jack.
“Maybe it’s because he’s a teammate?” Ransom shrugs.
“Nuh uh,” Holster shakes his head, “Freshman year you had Mitchy wrapped around your finger after two practices. This is something else.”
“God,” Ransom groans, “He’s just - fucking - do you see him right now?” He gestures over at where Chowder is sitting in his stall, running a hand through his hair and beaming up at Jack.
“Dirty pool,” Holster says, “Cute, hot, and a little bit crazy. Exactly your type. You never had a chance, bro.”
Chowder is holding a puppy. He’s holding a puppy and making kissy faces at it and wearing a bro-tank that shows off how unfairly toned his arms are and it feels like Ransom’s chest is constricting.
“Brah,” Holster breathes out next to him, “Brah, if you don’t go hit on him, I will.”
“Shut up, I know,” Ransom groans, “I just gotta think of something to say, first.”
“Say, ‘What’s cookin’, good lookin’?’” Holster suggests, a sleazy smile plastered on his face. Ransom shoves him hard. “Jesus, ouch. Just talk to him. Ask him about his day. Be a normal human being.”
“Right,” Ransom nods, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Chowder’s playing tug-of-war with the puppy now, looking at him with all the focus he shows when he’s in the crease during a game.
“He’s a puppy, Chowder, not an opponent,” Ransom laughs, “Pretty sure he’s not going to score on you.”
“You never know!” Chowder laughs, knocking his shoulder against Rans’ as he settles down next to him. “Have you seen Air Bud? Pretty sure there’s a hockey one.”
“Ice Bud, maybe,” Rans offers.
Chowder pauses for a second before he says, “I feel like that’s a beer.”
They’re both laughing, then, and Rans can’t take his eyes off the way Chowder’s face lights up when he laughs, dimples out in full force. He can practically feel Holster smirking at him from across the quad.
“This is unfair and cruel,” Ransom whines into Holster’s shoulder.
“He’s trying to kill me. He knows what he’s doing and he’s trying to kill me.”
“He knows what he’s doing,” Holster agrees, “But I don’t think killing you is what he has in mind. Look at him.”
Ransom moves his face from where it was mashed up in Holster’s shirt to look back at Chowder. He’s still dancing, hips moving in a fucking sinful grind, but now he’s staring at Rans, both eyebrows raised like an invitation.
“Go, my son,” Holster says, pushing Rans away from him and towards Chowder.
“Fuck,” Rans mutters under his breath. It takes three strides for him to get to Chowder, and half a second for Chowder to take a half-step back, pressing his back against Ransom’s front. Rans is tentative, but when he settles his hands on Chowder’s hips all he does is lean back even more into him.
“It was about time you showed up,” Chowder teases. Ransom can’t even respond to that, just squeezes Chowder’s hips and tries not to die from the way Chowder’s moving against him, head thrown back onto Ransom’s shoulder.
He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them he catches Holster’s gaze from across the room. Holster smiles and gives him a thumbs-up, and if it wasn’t so dark Ransom’s pretty sure he would see Holster give him a sleazy wink, too.
Okay hun. You brought up Chowder/Ransom as a pairing. (Wow that sounds threatening) Now, could you please write about it? Maybe just them getting together or something? Or just pure fluff? Pretty please? Thanks!
you know what i feel like i’m on a roll with this ship rn i’m rlly feeling it so yeah buddy i got u
“Rans!” Chowder yells, throwing himself half-on top of Ransom on the couch, legs slung over the book in Ransom’s lap. “All-organic chamomile tea baths. All the rage in Cali. My buddy Rory said they completely drained the toxins and stress from his body. We should look into that, huh?”
Ransom raises an eyebrow at him, nothing but skepticism on his face as he asks, “It’s just chamomile tea? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to drink the tea?”
“You can drink the tea while you’re taking the bath, Rans,” Chowder points out.
“Drinking your own bathwater?” Ransom asks, pulling a face.
“Oh my god, no, gross!” Chowder fake-gags. “You make some tea for the bath, then you make some more tea and put it in a mug and drink that tea.”
“That seems like a lot of work, when you can just make a cup of tea and drink it and probably have the same results.”
“Whatever,” Chowder huffs, “I think it would be cool!”
“Of course you do,” Ransom laughs. “Not today, babe, I don’t think we have the resources for a bath full of tea.”
“What about just a bath, then?” Chowder asks, moving the book off of Rans’ lap and putting himself there in its place. “Or what if we went to a movie? Or that new Mexican place downtown? Or anywhere that isn’t the Haus, Faber, or the library?”
Ransom huffs out another laugh, cupping his hands around Chowder’s cheeks and pulling him down into a quick kiss.
“Is this you complaining because I’m too stressed or you complaining because you think I don’t pay enough attention to you?”
“This is me complaining because you’ve already aced your MCAT and gotten into every medical school you applied to and you still spend more time with your dang textbooks than you do enjoying your senior year,” Chowder corrects. “Bath, movie, or Mexican?”
“Mmm,” Ransom deliberates for a second, “Mexican, movie, and bath. In that order.”
“Brilliant,” Chowder giggles, “This must be why they let you into Harvard.”
“Yep, my application essay was actually titled ‘How To Spend an Evening With Your Cute Boyfriend.’ Must’ve been a hit.”
“Okay, I know you’re joking but that would’ve been totally swawesome!”
